


By a Margin of Snowball in Hell

by TGP



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Jack hates the snow, Lost in a weird world, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TGP/pseuds/TGP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack wakes up in a weird temple in the snow. If he weren't beaten to hell, he might enjoy the adventure.</p><p>On second thought, no he wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By a Margin of Snowball in Hell

_When I get hold of whoever hit me with their truck…_

Jack O’Neill groans as consciousness hits with the force of a bat. Hurts about as much. His head pounds and his body aches, muscles twitchy and sore from zat aftermath but he’s pretty sure he’s been knocked around on top of that. He doesn’t remember getting hit, doesn’t remembers how he’d been in the position to be attacked at all. Everything is pretty fuzzy in his head. Rolling carefully onto his hands and feet, he sits up despite how the change in position just makes his head hurt more. His hair is matted with dried blood along the back of his head when he checks it, so he must have been out for a while.

Since he can’t remember how he got here, Jack figures the best thing he can do is find out where here is. The place is dark, wherever he is, but he can just barely make out the edges of huge stone blocks covered in writing or pictures, he couldn’t quite tell which. The blocks are nearly as tall as he is and half as wide, smoothed obsessively except for the carvings. The room itself is long and narrow and as his mind catches up to being completely awake, he realizes it’s more of a hall. One side opens up into a larger room too dark to make anything out in, while the other curves around and continues on. That’s the source of the meager light, filtered down who knew how far. Jack gets to his feet, barely, and manages to stagger far enough to use the wall for balance. He doesn’t like being this off base, but there’s not much he can do about it.

“Didn’t even buy me dinner first,” he mutters to himself as he takes stock of himself. He’s a little surprised he hasn’t been bound and he doesn’t seem caged either. His shenanigans senses start going off immediately. Jack’s been at this a long time. He knows shenanigans when they’re afoot. (Half the time, he’s the cause.) He really wishes his head was straight enough to remember what he’d been up to before coming here. Might shed a little light.

The air is cold enough that he can see his breathing, but the structure he’s in seems insulated somehow and the air is very still. Jack heads for the dim light, hugging his arms tight across his chest. He hurts and the cold is crappy, but better to find out just where he is than to sit in the cushion of stale air behind him. The hall curves into a spiral and he realizes he’s heading up at a steady, slight incline. Underground? Weird. The light gets better farther on and he notices the walls are covered in _both_ writing and weird pictures of some pretty fantastical beasts. Jack doesn’t know what it means and he’s inclined not to care, to be honest, except that some of those beasties are a little… Uh. _Creepy_.

By the time he reaches the first weirdly bright, low heat torch, Jack has stopped trying to read the walls and is now doing his best to both ignore how cold it is and also curse the fact that he’d been dropped here without winter gear. The air has a biting, angry quality to it and even after he’s tugged his shirt up over his mouth, trying to keep his breath warmer, he can feel the icy burn in his lungs. There is frost on the stones, spreading in pretty enough patterns and getting thicker the farther he goes. He snags the next torch and keeps it a little too close, anything to keep some heat. His ears pop about the time the walls turn white- Uh. Scratch that. He found the entrance to his weird prison. Cold snow piles in high drifts around the entrance but he still spot

s a clear blue sky above, cloudless and deceptively warm looking. The snow stretches as far as he can see and… There’s a thing sitting at the entrance, staring at him with startled surprise. Jack would think it was a polar bear except that it only looks like one for color and size. The rest of it comes across completely dog like. Jack stares at the weird polar bear dog thing that just stares back at him. It makes a confused noise. Jack mimics it and wonders when it’ll try to eat him.

It blinks its big, dark eyes at him but doesn’t eat him. After some curious sniffing and prowling around, it just licks his cheek and then flumps down on the cold stones, hip checking Jack hard enough to knock him over. Jack grumbles but that pale fur had been ridiculously warm and he is ridiculously cold, so a minute later, he’s plastered up against the hollow of the beast’s side. The… he’s just going to call it a dog already. It’s happy enough to let him steal body heat, enormous head lifted as it watches him. It’s obviously people friendly, which means it’s probably domesticated or maybe the people around here just treat wild beardogs with enough reverence that they don’t attack on sight. Who knows. He’s seen weirder.

“Hope you’re planning to stick around, Furball,” he mutters and the dog cocks its head with a quiet little noise. “If you hadn’t come by, I’d probably be a Jackcicle now.”

The dog leans in and nudges his face with its big, broad nose. Then it licks him and Jack groans. He wipes his face in the beast’s fur.

“That’s it. You’re officially dubbed _Fluffy_. Hear me? How do you expect to get a date with the name Fluffy, huh?”

Fluffy just licks him again and its huge tail thumps happily against the ground. Jack likes dogs just fine, but usually they’re not bigger than he is, and that tongue is half the size of his face. Fluffy seems big enough to ride if he took the notion of it. He sighs a little as Fluffy shifts itself, curving a bit more around Jack and shielding him from the worst of the wind. Maybe he’ll think of a better name for it later.

In the meantime, he’s got to figure out a plan. As far as he can see, there’s no hint of civilization (except for Fluffy) and without gear, he’d be crazy to go wandering in the snow. He’d freeze to death way before he starved. But, well, he can’t just sit there and hope for rescue. He’s got no idea where he is, how he got here, and there’s a good bet the SGC doesn’t either. Even if they did, he doesn’t have the supplies to sit here and wait.

He doesn’t have anything figured out when Fluffy suddenly jerks its head up, staring out into the frozen wastes. Then it gets up and nudges Jack back towards the spiral hall.

“I’m _not_ a puppy,” Jack grumbles but Fluffy’s insistent and doesn’t rest until he’s down a few turns. Then it loafs off without a back look to the surface. Jack shakes his head and heads far enough into the hall that he’s at least not freezing his ass off. He takes a torch with him this time and decides maybe he should explore the rest of the place that was too dark before.

Since there’s only one way to go, he gets back to where he started pretty quickly and pushes on, checking out the room beyond. It’s bigger than the last room but not by a lot, more carvings into the stone walls. And in the center of it, with plenty of room in front and back, is a stargate. Jack starts to relax until he realizes there isn’t a DHD anywhere. He searches every wall inch by inch, the floor, the stargate itself, and nothing. There’s no way to dial out and he can’t find any indication of a hidden room that might hold his salvation.

Jack chews the inside of his cheek. Well. That option’s out. There aren’t any cobwebs around, not really any dust either, but the air smells pretty dead in here except for the very faint ozone tint from a recently opened wormhole. He’s pretty sure that’s how he got here. Shaking his head, Jack returns to the second chamber and searches it, but there’s nothing there either, nor is there anything along the tunnel. He’s half through it when he hears a rough, questioning bark. Jack makes his way up, staying cautious in case it isn’t Fluffy come back to cuddle some more-

It’s Fluffy and it brought gifts. The huge dog thing’s tail wags excitedly as it stands behind the carcass of some kind of fish Jack doesn’t recognize. Looks like some weird mix of seal and tuna, but the rather huge bite taken out of it shows guts that are all fish, no mammal. It’s huge, plenty big enough for him and Fluffy to share without going hungry, and if he’s careful he might be able to keep some of it stowed away for later. Jack sighs a little and pats Fluffy’s head.

He hates sushi.

 

* * *

 

Being cold sucks the energy right out of him. Being hurt on top of that makes it worse. Jack tries to limit himself, spending time below where the air doesn’t have an icy bite to it even if it’s still cold, or staying against Fluffy’s warm body. The dog’s left a couple times, always back soon enough and often with food. Jack has figured out they must be somewhere near an ocean or at least a pretty substantial body of water, and this has to be a polar area, considering his watch has gone through thirty hours and the sun hasn’t moved an inch in the sky. At least he doesn’t have to deal with the temperatures plummeting any lower. He figures it must be early in the day season or maybe this place is just unbearably cold no matter what.

Jack isn’t sure how long it’ll take the SGC to track him down but he’s becoming grimly aware that it will likely be too long. He’s going to have to find the people that domesticated Fluffy, if they still exist, and staying in the cold temple won’t help him do that. Reviewing the supplies he had on him, barely any of it is useful for travel, not in this environment.

“Don’t suppose you want to cough up a snowmobile,” he mutters. Fluffy tilts its head and then pants with its tongue lolling. Jack rolls his eyes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a useless animal?”

Fluffy’s tail thumps.

“Right. You would be happy about that, wouldn’t you…”

He considers the beardog. It really is big enough to ride and maybe if he flattened himself along its flank, he wouldn’t freeze as they traveled. Problem is whether or not Fluffy would let him. Jack reaches up and pats Fluffy’s head, scratching behind its ears. The dog butts against his hand happily, distracted enough as Jack rises up to his feet.

“Easy… Easy girl- boy? …I’m not checking.” He keeps petting, keeps it distracted, as he tries to figure out the best way to do this. The dog’s shoulders are huge and powerfully muscled. He can’t very well try sitting on its neck, but behind the shoulders, that was probably as good a place as any and the fur around its neck was thick enough for him to grab handfuls and probably not hurt it. Jack gives Fluffy a glance and is rewarded with half lidded, sleepy half-consideration. If he’s going to do this… “Don’t bite me, okay?”

He hauls himself onto Fluffy’s back, wincing as his sore, cold body protests. Fluffy immediately shifts under him and it takes everything not to fall off as the beast gets to its feet. The massive shoulders flex around him but Fluffy’s not trying to throw him off, so Jack counts that as a win. He flattens himself against the warm fur, fingers curled tight in it. Fluffy takes a few steps and its body moves weird under him, less like a horse and more like- well, Jack’s never ridden a dog or a bear, so he guesses this is how it’s supposed to feel.

Then Fluffy is off like a rocket and it takes everything Jack’s got to keep hold. He has no idea where the dog’s going and the wind from their speed buffets his face too much to keep looking, either. He feels like his eyes will freeze up in his skull if he tries, so he just buries his face against Fluffy’s neck fur and takes the leap of faith.

Fluffy runs for what feels like hours, barely stopping for more than a few minutes at a time to trot here and there. It doesn’t seem to mind Jack much so even as a domesticated beardog, it must be pretty mild mannered. He peeks up anytime it slows, watching the land get rocky and uneven, more tundra than snow drift.

Fluffy picks its way more carefully here and something about the place makes the hair on the back of Jack’s neck stand up. It feels… He doesn’t know what it feels like but he doesn’t like it. He scans the area over the humps of Fluffy’s shoulders, trying to figure out why it seems like they’re being watched. Feels like there are a hundred eyes on him and they don’t like him there at all.

The temperature drops sharply and cold bites at his bare skin. It feels like he’s freezing solid, like his skin is going brittle and breakable. Jack thinks maybe this is it, turn him right into a Jackcicle. Maybe Fluffy won’t eat him…

Fluffy makes a wide arc, like it’s following some unseen wall, and blessedly the killing cold lessons. Jack gives the weird area a confused look, then Fluffy takes off to bound through snow drifts again. Jack relaxes, just a little, and wishes he had any idea where they were going.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he hits the ground. Jack wakes with a groan, rolling onto his back as cold snow butts up against his skin and clothes. He checks his watch and then stares up sourly as Fluffy looks down at him and tries to lick his face.

“Ugh, no, stop that!” Jack shoves the dumb beast’s face away but Fluffy just wags its tail harder and whines at him. He climbs back up and groans at how sore his legs are, especially his inner thighs. Jack tends for mechanical rides for just this reason and he glares harder as Fluffy just nuzzles its face under his arm. “I swear to god, I’m-”

Jack stops. He blinks over the edge of Fluffy’s bulky body and squints. Are those…

“You beautiful beast you,” he coos at Fluffy, who barks happily.

There’s a village over there. And where there’s a village in the snow, there are _coats_.

 

* * *

 

Kanna has seen a lot in her life. She considers herself to be fairly well versed in the ways of the world and what lies within it. The man sitting at her fire, wolfing down stewed sea prunes like he hasn’t eaten in a week, is not really like anything she’s seen before. She doesn’t know what to make of him or his strange clothes or his strange features. In her youth, Kanna traveled through much of the Earth Kingdom on her way to the Southern Tribe and never did she see anyone that looks like he does.

The man doesn’t speak the merchant tongue or any dialect she knows, and she knows quite a few of them, but he seems easy enough to corral for now. She dropped her warmest blanket over his shoulders, tutting at the light jacket he’d been wearing (how on earth had he planned on surviving in the snow? Was he touched in the head?) but he took to the bowl she pushed into his gloveless hands easy enough. She’s surprised he isn’t frost bitten but considering who he’d rode in on, maybe she shouldn’t be.

Sakari has hung around and bothered their snow dogs for years now, ever since Kanna and the others helped her whelp a litter once. The pups had been healthy and grew up quick, heading off for their fortunes, but the polarbeardog remained close. She wasn’t quite tame and hadn’t she been anything but a little wary of humans. These days she was gentle as a mother’s touch. This isn’t the first time Sakari has dragged home a wary traveler, but this is probably the strangest.

Kanna waits until the man finishes his bowl and doesn’t offer another. She won’t risk him getting sick off a full stomach, not while he’s recovering from the cold. His strange eyes lift to her and she waits as he sizes her up. It’s a familiar enough color, even if the shape is all wrong. He’s weakened, alone, but there is something dangerous in him even so. She wonders if she’s made a mistake, but she’s always been of the mind to trust.

“Kanna,” she introduces, touching her chest lightly.

His eyes narrow, but he gets it and responds simply, “Jack.” She tries the name herself, but it’s strange, unwieldy. She can barely pronounce the first sound, something only found outside the Tribe, but manages it on the third try. Nearly, anyway. She can’t quite wrap her mouth around it, hasn’t spoken any of the other nations’ dialects in so long except the merchant tongue. Kanna studies his face.

“Are you Spiritborne?” It’s obvious he has no idea what she’s said, but she tries again, tries with every word for them that she knows in every dialect she’s ever heard. He gets more and more confused every time until she tries a very, very old word, one she’s never heard spoken but had read once in the sacred space of the Spirits, back when she had been a girl. That word makes him very still and his attention sharpens. He babbles something that sounds frustrated but also bitterly amused. The word doesn’t seem to be one he likes at all. Interesting.

She hums low in her throat and thinks about it. He doesn’t feel like a spirit (but the Avatar had also only felt like a boy.) She eyes his strange clothing. Whatever he is, Jack had not come here prepared for the cold. He didn’t have the desperation of a man on the run, nor the disposition of an explorer. Kanna’s eyes narrow. This man had been displaced against his will. Well, that makes her position very clear.

Jack sleeps off his cold exhaustion in her home while Kanna makes sure Sakari gets a meal and a good rubbing down. She isn’t really surprised when the polarbeardog decides to follow her home and curl up around Jack’s body after.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, bit of a slow start, but it'll pick up. :) Sakari's name was originally Aga, which means "mother", but that sounded too close to Naga, so i found something else for her. xD She is probably my favorite OC I've ever had. 
> 
> I tend to work on this story (and others) while I'm at work and post bits of it on http://tgp-the-loser.livejournal.com/ if anyone is interested in watching the story grow before it gets posted. Or just wants to ask questions or prompt anything. :)


End file.
